April 16, 2013
We have made it to eleven weeks. Time moves as slow as sludge when you're pregnant. This first trimester has seemed like an eternity! One more week and I'll be in the second trimester with still a long way to go.
We've had two ultrasounds so far, and both times we were able to see the baby's little heartbeat. There is life! Praise God for life! After one miscarriage and one stillbirth, life seems so improbable. It's a miracle. I pray this baby makes it out into the world alive and well. I never thought I'd have to worry about that.
Even now, I have trouble imagining myself holding a live baby of my own. My heart is still slow to go there. It's terrible that I half expect to lose this child. O me of little faith. It's shameful. Yet I'm learning that faith is having confidence in God's ability and power to do great and mighty (and even terrifying) things. He is able. I will trust.
May 1, 2013
A subsequent pregnancy after loss is a unique experience. Thankfully, I have been surrounded by very excited and supportive people. Not all have the blessing of such community. Still, no matter how much support I have, this continues to be a very lonely valley through which no one can really journey but me. Not even my beloved husband knows the full strain that pregnancy after loss inflicts physically, emotionally and spiritually. He knows better than most, though.
When, God willing, this baby arrives, Cora would have been one year and three months old. It's strange to be a mother and have no real concept of what raising a child is like. I can't even successfully imagine having a three month old, much less a crawler or toddler. My heart is sluggish to go there, and the scar tissue aches as it stretches to have hope.
This time last year, I was six months pregnant with Cora Lane. We had just moved into a new house, and I was eagerly putting the nursery together. Now I'm three months pregnant, and I haven't touched the nursery. It represents a kind of certainty that I just don't have yet. Dare I say that room may even represent my faith? The emptiness of that little room convicts me daily. Each day that my trust in the Lord grows stronger, I think more frequently about dusting off all the baby stuff and giving that room life again. It will happen eventually. Perhaps when we find out if the decor will be blue or pink.
I have heard this baby's heartbeat several times with our doppler. It's such a comforting sound, but now that I've heard it, I fear not finding it one day. I fear living a replay of that day when we failed to find Cora's heartbeat. By the time we listened for it, she already had a heavenly pulse. Even as we hope to welcome this baby into the world, we will be loving and missing you, precious Cora Lane.